Forty Years Later
by Thess
Summary: He hates her and desires her above everyone else – except perhaps another. A personal take on Alucard’s reason to battle Rip van Winkle. OneShot. Manga ficlet. [Gift requested by SerasKelia].


Disclaimer: Hellsing belongs to Kouta Hirano.

Author's Notes: This is the gift requested by Seras-Kelia (Alucard x Rip dark 'erotica') and edited by herself! In any case, this is one very twisted theory of why Alucard was so dead set with Rip van Winkle, do not take it as canon, I've plans to write another Rip fic nothing like this one. Possible AU warning stands.

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**Forty Years Later**

Every hunter had a favourite prey. For Alucard, it was the woman who fired at him in that instant. She believed herself the predator; she always had that delusion of taking him down for good.

It did not work then, and it would not now.

Alucard chuckled; half of his face blew up. "I caught you," he taunted, her pupils dilated in fear as he advanced towards her. A faint remembrance perhaps? A gut feeling that told her whom he really was? Had she recognised him finally?

Her Samiel? Her tempter and tormentor?

She was a paradox to him. Brave but a coward. Strong but weak. Intelligent but dense. Above all those things, he had desired her and had hated her more than anyone in the world. Except perhaps another.

It was ironic; she also wore glasses and a black business suit now. Fate played a few foreshadowing jokes before but that one was beyond priceless.

Her cheek felt so fragile beneath the jolt of his knuckles, shattering like porcelain on a marble floor. Not enough blood came out her mouth, not enough time she remained on the ground. Her eyes defied him as she stood to fire again - a loathsome look able to stir his dead loins. Alucard smiled to himself very, very softly. He recalled the first time she had glared at him with the same intensity, so fearless in her soul as he gloated his victory.

Alucard wanted to hurt her. Craved for her pain more than anything, he was eager to recover what was his. She was supposed to be his charge, not the Major's pathetic puppet.

Picking her up, Alucard pinned her to the wall. Her delicious writhing nearly sent him over the edge but he controlled himself. It was far from over. With his right hand, he reached for her musket. Long, imposing... Abraham van Helsing was not the only one who delighted himself in staking, a fine replacement for the diverse ways of 'impalings.'

She screamed in pain as the weapon was plunged into her thin frame. This was melody to his ears, how he had missed that sound! The very same notes she had screamed a long time ago. Her blood poured in generous quantity - the smell was enthralling, calling… No point to waste, correct?

So he lapped greedily every fallen drop as his multiple arms snared her body, keeping her in place. With each lick, he brought the memories lingering in her conscience. Fragmented, he saw pieces of her life as a slow motion sepia film.

The year was irrelevant. 1939? 1940? The date when the imposed slumber had taken her often escaped his mind. So was the place, it was no England for certain. Germany? Poland? Romania, mayhap? Abandoning any ponderings, he limited to see through her eyes as the insane German Doctor greeted her with a grin – his lab coat was clean in those times.

"You don't have a name, do you?" he inquired, removing the large stake of her heart. "Forty years ago you vere placed in this cell… You have been sleeping for four decades just like Rip van Vinkle."

Her answer was a mere guttural growl before bursting into tears. Sobbing like a newborn, confused for the world she was brought to.

"You can't talk? Do you understand me?" He strode closer and adjusted his spectacles. "Someone from England did this to you. They brought you here and abandoned you. They vere your friends and betrayed you, fräulein."

She stopped crying and listened interested.

"Ve'll take a good care of you. Ve'll feed you and teach you to fight so one day, you'll destroy the one who cursed you. Ja?"

Alucard felt her lips twisting into a shark-like grin, her hands clapping in effusive enthusiasm. "Ja! Ja!"

The scene shifted in one of broken thoughts, isolate images. Woods, Weber, orders and the sound of the musket hitting the target of someone who had sold his soul for the lowest price.

_"The hunt is a lonely game… Only the beasts of the forest and yourself…"_

Where her heart lies.

_"No pity to traitors! No peace to those who betrayed their friends. They are nothing but riffraff."_

Where her moral rests.

_"Power and immortality! Those English pigs turned their backs to their Fatherland for that! I'll grant them a small pension plan in the bottom of the sea!" _

Where her reckoning bites back.

_"Erblickt Samiel  
Du, Samiel! schon hier?  
So hieltst du dein Versprechen mir?  
Nimm deinen Raub! Ich trotze dem Verderben!  
Er hebt die geballte Faust drohend gen Himmel.  
Dem Himmel Fluch! - Fluch dir!"_

Where her fate and doom met.

The final act had arrived for Kaspar.

Alucard was over her, forcing to tilt her head. His tender neck, pale as the falling snow of his Carpathians. He would taste that again, his mouth watered at the thought.

_This way, you'll remember me…_

He bit down. She moaned by the induced pleasure of his eyeteeth shredding layers of her flesh. Alucard lowered his eyelids as his let go a content purr, how he had missed that skin, that scent. Everything now was irrelevant, the war, Hellsing - he had her. That was what mattered.

His many hands trailed off her clothed body, stroking, teasing a promise of more. She trembled, too engrossed in the ravaging to note the pain.

_Do you remember me now? My bountiful wine-press? _

"I'm the huntress Rip Van Winkle. Nein, I'm Kaspar and you're Samiel ready to take me to the valley of death…"

Shadows covered their forms completely; assuring no prying eyes would see what was happening. Alucard was aware Major Max was watching, he had guessed his plans but he could not pass such bait - he had not learnt from the experience. Let him see, he could not care less as long Alucard recovered that which was his.

Alucard's hands divested her bottom; pants tore off in shreds as patience subsided. His shadows engulfed her, sliding inside her, penetrating deep as he watched her arched and buckled by instinct. They formed a second skin that tickled to the contact, possessing her. He was there, covering her entire figure, taking her as a whole: Flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood, kin of his kin.

Alucard released her neck briefly to lick those fingertips accustomed to pulling the trigger. The digits that used to tirelessly type and type.

She cried out when his canines descended on her neck again, the lovely spasms shook her body as the tendrils teased her mouth, entering the oral cavity as well. Alucard grew restless, recovering her mind open to access. He found nothing, not a memory of him or what happened during his visits. The oldest one caught his attention.

Red haired, middle aged man with a stern face, grief stricken as he staked her on that crypt the Doctor had found her forty years later: Abraham van Helsing.

"You're an innocent, a child soul without evil that attack for instinct… Newborn to both, darkness and light. Your mother forgave me to be unable to lift the curse from you… She loved you until the end… There's was no way to bless you and purge you out of his evil…"

The cell started to glow red, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. The slumber slowly spread inside her system.

"He won't know you really are or where you are… Sleep now and when you awake I'll send my descendants for you. They'll raise you and nourish you. Your father would have forgiven you as well…"

_"Father fed me with his flesh and blood…"_

A shell, she was just the body of the woman he had desired… His blood had not only tainted one but also two; however she had escaped from his grasp to die for the curse in an indirect way.

_That fear… that anger... Did your mother transferred you that when you were but a spot in her womb? _

Alucard struck then, uncaring to have this shadow of her. This child would not wear the mother's face any longer. Or speak with her mouth, or walk with her legs. Neither would see him through her eyes. It was a taunt and he had enough of those.

His tendrils thrust in once more, tearing her organs, bones and muscle by making a path to her throat. Her scream was silenced when he destroyed her vocal cords. Darkness consumed the listless body, eagerly returning flesh-to-flesh, blood-to-blood, kin devouring kin. Alucard would recycle that for someone else.

_Your parents are eager to greet you now, Quincy. Kin-slayer, taking over your mother's body, eating your father. Pity I didn't find you first…The things I would have taught you…_

He looked down, the boat was in ruins, only his shadows maintained it float. And the water would destroy them sooner or latter. The dreams were omens after all…

His 'castle' would be destroyed, his servants and his bride would be killed and she who he desired would be taken away.

Alucard laughed at the cleverness of Major's plan. To use the past to deprive him of his future. And he had fallen once more in the endless poetic irony of God's twisted plans.


End file.
